Breathing Room

Relief shot through him. He started to move, then hesitated. He didn’t know what he’d find, and if he weren’t careful, he’d frighten her more. God, he didn’t want to do that.

“You don’t want to frighten the little ones. Not until it’s too late for them to get away.”

His stomach lurched. He’d read the script only once, but he had a good memory, and too many lines had stuck.

“Steffie?” He spoke softly. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

He heard a rustle, but no response. “It’s all right,” he said. “You can talk to me.”

A tiny, frightened whisper traveled through the gloom. “Are you a monster?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. Not now, sweetheart, but give me another month. “No, honey,” he said quietly. “It’s Ren.”

He waited.

“P-please, go away.”

Even in the face of her terror, she’d remembered her manners. “Polite little girls are the easiest victims,” Street said in the script. “Their need to please outweighs their survival instincts.”

He was cold and clammy from the rain, but he started to sweat. Why did he have to be the one to find her? Why couldn’t it have been her father or Isabel? He moved as quietly as he could. “Everybody’s looking for you, honey. Your parents are worried.”

He heard something shift in the dirt. She was moving also, too frightened, he suspected, to let him come closer. But what had frightened her?

He hated the feeling that he was stalking her. Even more, he hated the way he automatically added that emotion to the teeming garbage heap inside him that made up his actor’s stockpile-the place he visited when he needed to access the ugliness of the human condition. Every actor had one of those stockpiles, but he suspected that his was more squalid than most.

Only an act of desperation could have forced her in here. Unless she’d been given no choice… “Are you hurt?” He kept his voice calm. “Did anybody hurt you?”

Her breath caught on a soft, frightened hiccup. “There are… lots of spiders in here.”

Instead of going after her and upsetting her more, he moved back toward the door so there was no chance she could slip past him. “Did you… did you come in here by yourself?”

“The d-door was open, and I squeezed in.”

“By yourself?”

“ ’Cause I was afraid of the thunder. But I didn’t know it would be so… dark.”

He couldn’t shake off the shadow of Street. “Are you sure you didn’t come here with somebody?”

“No. By myself.”

He let himself relax. “That door’s pretty heavy. How did you close it?”

“I pulled real hard with both hands.”

He drew a full breath. “You must be really strong to do that. Let me feel your muscles.”

A sucker was born every minute, but she wasn’t one of them. “No thank you.”

“Why not?”

“Because… you don’t like kids.”

You’ve got me there. He was definitely going to have to work on his relationship with children before the cameras started to roll. One of the things that made Street such a monster was the way he could enter their world. They didn’t sense his evil until it was too late.

He forced himself back to reality. “Hey, I love kids. I used to be a kid myself. I wasn’t a good kid like you, though. I got into a lot of trouble.”

“I think I’m going to be in trouble.”

You can bet on that. “Naw, they’re going to be so happy to have you back that you’re not going to be in any trouble at all.”

She wasn’t moving, but his eyes had adjusted enough for him to see a dim shape huddled near what looked like an overturned chair. One more time, just to be absolutely certain. “Tell me again, honey. Are you hurt? Did anybody hurt you?”

“No.” He saw a slight movement. “Spiders in Italy are very big.”

“Yeah, but I can kill them for you. I’m good at that.”

She didn’t say anything.

While Steffie made up her mind about him, Tracy and Harry were going through the torments of the damned. It was time to get serious. “Steffie, your mom and dad are really scared. I need to take you back to them.”

“No thank you. C-could you please go away?”

“I can’t do that.” Once again he started toward her, taking it slow. “I don’t want you to be scared, but I have to come and get you now.”

A sniffle.

“I’ll bet you’re hungry, too.”

“You’re gonna r-ruin everything.” She started to cry. Nothing dramatic. Just a few miserable gulps that tore at him.

He stopped to give her a little time. “What am I going to ruin?”

“E-everything.”

“Give me a hint.” He slipped sideways between some crates.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

He was nearly close enough to touch her now, but he didn’t. Instead, he crouched in the dirt about five feet away, doing his best to compress his height. “Why is that?”

“J-just because.”

He was overcome by his own inadequacy. He didn’t know a damn thing about kids, and he had no idea how to handle this. “I’ve got an idea. You know Dr. Isabel? You like her, don’t you? I mean, a lot better than you like me.”

Too late, he realized that probably wasn’t the best way to phrase a question for an overly polite little girl. “It’s okay. My feelings won’t be hurt. I like Dr. Isabel a lot, too.”

“She’s very nice.”

“I was thinking… She’s the kind of person who understands things. Why don’t I take you to her so you can tell her what’s wrong?”

“Would you go get her for me?”

Tracy hadn’t raised a fool. This was going to take a while.

He propped himself against one of the wine crates. “I can’t do that, honey. I have to stay with you. But I promise I’ll take you to her.”

“Would my d-daddy have to know?”

“Yes.”

“No thank you.”

What was this about? He kept his manner casual. “Are you afraid of your dad?”

“My daddy?”

He heard the surprise in her voice and relaxed. “He seems like a pretty nice guy to me.”

“Yes.” The word held a universe of misery. “But he’s going away.”

“I think he just needs to get back to his job. Grown-ups have to work.”

“No.” The word trailed off on a wispy sob. “He’s going away forever and ever and ever.”

“Who told you that?”

“I heard him. They had a big fight, and they don’t love each other anymore, and he’s going away.”

So that’s what this was about. Steffie had overheard Tracy and Briggs fighting. Now what was he supposed to do? Hadn’t he read somewhere that you should help kids verbalize their feelings? “Bummer.”

“I don’t want him to go,” she said.

“I’ve just met your dad, so I don’t know him real well, but I can tell you this: He’d never leave you forever and ever.”